


Never Felt More Comfortable (Could Never Want For More When You're Near)

by Lilsciencequeen



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, Inescapable Spec, Post The Other Thing, Reunions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-18
Updated: 2019-06-18
Packaged: 2020-05-14 11:03:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,765
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19271977
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilsciencequeen/pseuds/Lilsciencequeen
Summary: The last thing he remembered was the gas filing the room, choking him. He fell to his knees, unable to breathe, the memories of drowning rushing to the forefront of his mind. It was terrifying, unable to get a single breath in, his lungs burning with the lack of oxygen and before he knew it, his mind had gone black.//6.06 Spec





	Never Felt More Comfortable (Could Never Want For More When You're Near)

**Author's Note:**

> I'm finally posting again! The last few weeks I've just had no energy, university really took it out of me when it came to editing and writing but I am so glad I got this finished and can be posting again. Thank you so much for baring with me and I hope that you enjoy this one.

The last thing he remembered was the gas filing the room, choking him. He fell to his knees, unable to breathe, the memories of drowning rushing to the forefront of his mind. It was terrifying, unable to get a single breath in, his lungs burning with the lack of oxygen and before he knew it, his mind had gone black.

***

He woke to the sound of his name being called, someone’s hand on his shoulder as if whoever it was was trying to wake him up. As he swam back to consciousness, he opened his eyes slowly and…

And Jemma was there.

She was beside him, drawing her hands back when she realised he was conscious, as if she didn’t want to cross some line, as if she was scared that she would hurt him. But she did speak, breathing one word that was barely audible. “Fitz…” Knelt down beside him, she holding herself in such a way that it made it seem like she wanted to throw her arms around him and hold him close, to never let him go, but was restraining herself, as if the actions she so longed to do were inappropriate. “Fitz…” It seemed like she wanted to say more but she stopped, obviously overwhelmed by all that had happened. 

“Jemma?” She couldn’t be here. She just couldn’t. But standing up, Jemma following his lead, he threw her arms around him, holding her close, taking in every second of being with her. Because she was here for whatever reason, but she was safe and alive, the hadn’t hurt her. They hadn’t hurt her.  “What are you?” He couldn’t finish the question because even though she was buried in his shirt, he could hear her sobs, gentle but heart-wrenching, as if something about being here was too much for him. Pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, he began to rub her back, in an attempt to soothe her, but this just made her sob even more, the noise tearing at his heart. Something had happened, something bad, because this was something… this was something he didn’t understand.

Because Jemma Simmons, she shouldn’t be standing here, in a spaceship light years away from Earth, crying in his arms. She should be decades in the future, working to prevent some extinction level event and he was supposed to be cryogenically frozen.

“What?” he eventually began to ask, holding her as close as ever because it had been _far too long_ since he had last held her. And now that she was here, he didn’t want to miss a moment with her. “What happened Jemma?” The words were nothing more than a whisper into her hair, his lips pressing another gentle kiss to her temple, because he knew that would help calm her down, to reassure her that he was here, no matter what. “What happened Jemma, why are you here?”

There was no answer from her, as if what it had happened was too painful for Jemma to discuss but he knew that bottling it in wouldn’t be healthy, that if they were going to come back from this and make their way home, then they had to speak about whatever it was that she was so distraught over. “Jemma, you know that you can tell me. You can always tell me.”

“You died,” she whispered, her words swallowed by the fabric of his shirt. “You died Fitz.”

Her words threw him, he hadn’t been expecting them. He looked at her, caressing her cheek. “Jemma… What… what do you mean? I died?”

“Trying to save the world. That extinction-level event we were trying to prevent…” She took a shaking breath, the tears that were streaming down her face being wiped away by the man that was and wasn’t her husband. “We succeeded but… but you were…” It looked as if it were too much for her, as if she were struggling to say the words, as if it were still too painful for her to talk about. And if he were going to be honest, he didn’t blame her. A version of himself (not that he knew how, but that was something he could deal with at a later date, because right now, comforting Jemma, holding her whilst she mourned the Fitz she had lost was more important than working out how he died and how he was also standing here.

“I was killed?” he offered, watching as what remained of her composure collapsed and she broke down into sobs. Once again, he pulled back, looking at her and saw just how… devastated she was. He had had nightmares about losing her, had known what it was like to live a life without her with only a glimmer of hope that she was still alive. But to actually lose her, to have her die… he couldn’t even begin to imagine what that must have been like, the pain that she went through.

“I couldn’t lose you,” she whispered, sinking into his hug, the first embrace she had had from him in over a year. “I couldn’t lose you.”

He remained silent, just held her close until she stopped crying, occasionally murmuring a reassurance into her ear.

Neither of them knew how long they remained like that, holding each other close and allowing the emotions of the last several months, the last year, to escape them. It had been so long since they had held each other that the simply enjoyed the moment.

When the finally pulled apart, Fitz reached over once again, and brushed a lose strand of Jemma’s hair behind her ear, before allowing his hand to caress her cheek again. “Where are we?” she whispered, leaning into the movement. For a brief second, her eyes fluttering for the briefest of seconds as she enjoyed the sensation, something she had forgotten in that god-awful year.

He looked over her shoulder and around them, at the white room, the walls almost glowing and frowned. This wasn’t the room that he had been drugged by Enoch. It was somewhere else. “I don’t know.” He tried to take in as much as possible but there was nothing there in the room. It was just white, the glow so bright that it was almost blinding. “The last thing I remember was Enoch and gas…” He swallowed hard, because he had been betrayed by someone who he had trusted again… but that didn’t matter. Not now. He had to push it to the back if his mind, put it to the bottom of his to-do list. Getting out of here, safe and alive and with Jemma, that was more important.

“The last thing I remember is the same. Not Enoch but the Chronicoms. The one who captured me…” She shook her head, shuddering as she remembered the sensation of her lungs burning. “But as for where we are, I don’t know.” Glancing around, following his gestures, she found that she was the same as him. She had no idea where they were, and that did nothing to settle the nervous fluttering in her stomach. In fact, it only made it grow more restless.

Fitz must have sensed her nerves because he took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “We’re going to get out of here. I promise you Jems, we’re getting out of here.”

She nodded, and was about to say something when a voice cut through the room, one that she didn’t know well but one that sent shivers down her spine nevertheless.

“You’re here.”

Fitz spun, turning to see who had seemingly magically appeared in the room.

It was Altarah, the Chronicom who had captured both of them, taking them prisoner in the hopes of working out how time travel worked in the hopes of saving their planet.

“What is here?” Jemma asked, taking a step towards her, standing beside Fitz and holding tight to his hand, not wanting to let go. Because he was her rock, her support. Her one constant throughout the years, and after all that they had faced together, this would be nothing. This would be just another bump in the road.

They would escape this, return to Earth and get that happily ever after that they deserved.

A wicked smile crossed their face, as they stepped closer to them, Fitz subconsciously pushing Jemma behind himself to protect her and taking a step in front of her. He wasn’t going to let Altarah take her, let anyone take her.

Not again.

Never again.

“Your hopes come true… or your worst nightmares.” The smile grew even more wicked, but the statement provided no answers, in fact it just confused them even more.

“Our worst nightmares?” Jemma asked, coming out from behind Fitz, wanting to know what had happened to them. What could happen to them.

“You’re trapped in your minds, your bodies at rest.”

“I thought that you needed us, needed _me_ to help you save your planet.” The words from Fitz were an accusation, spat out. Because that’s what they had said was going to happen. That he was needed, and Jemma… that Jemma would be leverage, to make him do what they wanted.

“We do. And this is the best way. The information is in your mind, your head, and if you build it in here, then we can see all your thinking, all the tricks that you are planning to play. If we can see what you’re going to do before you do it, then _no one_ here has to get hurt.” Their gaze flicked over to Jemma, who swallowed hard, knowing that person being discussed was her. She wasn’t here to help build the time machine.

She was leverage. Plain and simple.

“What makes you even think that this is going to work?” Fitz’s answer was strong and defiant. “What makes you think that I’ll do that.”

There was no reply, just silence.

The space at his side felt empty, Jemma’s hand no longer in his. He looked around and around, hoping, _praying_ that she was there.

But she wasn’t.

It was just him and Altarah, alone in the room together.

And Jemma, she was just gone. He didn’t even hesitate to demand to go with her, begging because he _wasn’t_ losing her, not when he had just found her. That he would do anything if he could just get to her.

“Of course,” Altarah said, their last words resonating with a hideous undertone of victory. “But just remember, your hopes or your worst nightmares could come true.”

And with that, Fitz was gone too.          


End file.
